


Guardian

by scienceofficerjim-kirk (DemiPalladium)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pike-centric, Pre-Slash, semi incredibles crossover, semi superman crossover, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 21:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11768904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiPalladium/pseuds/scienceofficerjim-kirk
Summary: In an alternate Star Trek universe, Jim Kirk is the son of two of the world's most famous Supers, but doesn't have any super powers himself--unless you count an unnatural knack for getting into trouble. Christopher Pike, a Head Mission Assigner, has been tasked with finding the troublesome kid a Guardian--a Superhero babysitter, someone to keep him alive while he's out in the streets of the San Francisco metropolis as a reporter for theEnterprise. He's been striking out for some time now when, finally, he might've just found a break in the case.Inspired by leifor's and gj-fangirls' Superhero AU art on tumblr!





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a small thing I cooked up during long car rides, don't expect anything groundbreaking, ahaha ^-^;

Pike glances over at the clock hanging on the wall in his office at the _Enterprise_ Publishing House. It’s only 1330, and he already feels like shit and a bourbon—much too early, in his opinion.

He honestly didn’t believe finding a fit for this mission would be this hard.

The mouse clicks permeate the room as he dismisses a few would-be applicants out of hand; no prior experience, the wrong power sets, obviously just chasing the fame, et cetera.

At least there wasn’t a problem with the _number_ of applicants, he muses to himself as he rejects a few more. Everybody and their grandma’s dog wants to get in on James T. Kirk, youngest son of two of the most famous Supers ever to walk the Earth...and the world’s most (in)famous reporter.

 _Micah?_ Pike thinks to himself as the Super pops up on his screen. The half-bunny Super could be a good, strong role model for him. He sets her aside on the “maybe” list and is reviewing the next candidate when he hears a knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he calls out, not looking up from his screen, “it’s open.”

“Captain Pike,” a distinctive green-tinged Super greets with a distinctive flat monotone.

 _Well, I wasn’t expecting this,_ Pike thinks, amused, and glances up as the alien Super approaches his desk. 

“Spock, hello, please sit.” He waves him into the seat on the other side of his desk. "What can I do you for?” 

“I...would _like_ to inform you that I am here to apply for the position of one James T. Kirk’s Guardian.” Spock informs him, sounding like a stack of freshly-minted magazines.

Pike looks at Spock.

Spock, without blinking his dark brown eyes and barely even moving, looks back.

“Are you sure? This doesn’t really seem like the type of thing you’d like,” Pike’s eyebrows knit together as he pulls up Spock’s file—the half-alien has pulled an impressive success rate in the past few years since he’s become officially registered.

Spock is his usual unflinchingly-emotionless self. “Yes, I am certain.”

“So, why are you interested in Superfleet’s resident golden boy?” 

It’s a question that he asks inquiringly, because there’s nothing in Spock’s file—or in his personality—that says he’d be interested in the hotheaded, ‘leap-before-looking’ kind of guy that Jim is.

“I have, as you would say, a _desire_ to _expand my horizons_ past my current repertoire. I would _like_ to gain experience in dealing with long-term assignments,” Spock replies, ever-so-clinical.

Well, all his credentials check out at least, and, as the Super’s ex-mentor, the captain knows from experience what Spock’s like—there’s no need to hunt down character references or performance reviews.

And— _that’s it_!

With a quick search plugged into Superfleet’s Assignment databanks, the Editor-In-Chief of the _Enterprise_ can see all the past Supers assigned to Kirk. All of them, every last one, have his exact same personality type—short-fused, brash, arrogant. What Jim _really_ needs in a Guardian might not be someone just like him—but someone on the _other side of the spectrum entirely._

Pike nods in acceptance at Spock. (And, really, what does he have left to lose at this point?)

“I’ve got no doubt that you’ve reviewed all that this assignment will entail. You’ve got the job, Spock. You will report here to me tomorrow at 0800 sharp in civvies with a Regular alias and all necessary identification—you’ll be taking on a job as a reporter specializing in the sciences and on the same reporting team as Kirk. You will be doing your damnedest to keep him out of trouble, and failing that you’ll keep him alive. He’s got a Healer friend in the ‘Fleet; one Leonard H. “Bones” McCoy, and you’ll report directly to him if the kid gets hurt. Or one of his unnatural amount of allergies gets triggered. I’ll forward you his files and a basic job overview as soon as I can. I trust you to be prepared tomorrow morning.”

There’s a slight tilt of an eyebrow, and Pike knows he wasn’t expecting to get the job this easily, but the black-haired half-alien keeps all thoughts to himself.

“Understood, sir. Am I dismissed?”

Pike nods. “You can go.”

Either way, if he manages to piss off _Spock_ of all people into getting mad and 619’ing, maybe then the ‘Fleet will finally decide that he’s a lost cause and finally, _finally_ give Pike a better day job. (He loves the kid, he really does, but...just not this much.)

———

Two days later, Pike is up bright and early to find that Jim has forwarded him a text document.

The undercover Editor-in-Chief of the Enterprise newspaper frowns in consternation. The document is _fifty-three_ pages long, doesn’t have a title, doesn't seem to be properly formatted, and he’s pretty sure it’s physically impossible for Jim to crank out that much this fast.

He opens it…and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

_The sweat of his exertion shown like dew on a spring morning, yet his raven bangs and upswept brows were impeccable as always. I shivered, suddenly acutely aware of my nakedness as Spock dispatched the last gang member with a swift kick to the head..._

It’s like a car crash, that word document; absolutely horrible and not something the author ever intended for public consumption, but it has some sort of strange attention-grabbing authority that makes it impossible to look away.

_Gingerly as I could, I gently traced his rock-hard abs under my left fingertips, feeling my manhood respond in kind. It was totally crazy; I was getting a hard-on as Spock flew us over the city while I was naked save for a towel around my groin after nearly being sexually assaulted by a crazy gang, but hey, no one would ever accuse me of being normal anyways._

That’s the only real reason Pike can give for spending his morning reading what amounts to a novel's worth of real-person pre-slash, anyways. (Don’t ask how he knows those terms…he just does, okay?)

And boy, _oh boy_ , is it a _ride_.

Later on, he’s nearing the midpoint of the document when he notices that three words have just been misspelled in a row, and he still can’t put the damn thing down even though he winces and all his editor senses are screaming at him to fix every last mistake he comes across.

_'Which god did I piss off to deserve this?’_

Pike reaches around page thirty-eight when the story comes to an abrupt halt (right before the explicit stuff starts happening, and Pike doesn’t know how he feels about that), the by-then-barely-cohesive narrative falling apart into a keyboard smash mid-(run on)sentence and a small assortment of letters repeating themselves over and over and over again.

Cringing, he realizes that Jim had probably written this half-asleep to begin with and, most likely, fell asleep on the keyboard (as a precursory scroll through the pages shows the sequence repeated endlessly) and accidentally sent him a copy as he shifted during the night.

The nice thing to do, the right thing to do, is to ignore it like he'd never read it and discreetly delete it off his email.

 _But what fun is that?_ Pike thinks gleefully as he deletes the excess keyboard smash and prints out the world’s best blackmail material.

———

Later that day, around 11 A.M., Spock approaches him. He can see a tinge of green blush below his otherwise-impeccable human skin tone (Pike doesn’t know how he does it even after years of knowing him and he’s a bit jealous, to be honest), and, seeing as how the boy’s about as emotional as a rock almost 24/7, he’s intrigued.

“I would like to request a redaction from this mission,” Spock informs him primly without making eye contact, and now Pike’s curious.

“Reason?”

“I do not believe I am an…adequate fit.”

 _Holy shit_ , Spock just froze mid-sentence. Spock _doesn’t_ freeze mid-sentence. Pike peers closer, and there’s _definitely_ a noticeable green flush on his face.

With a shake of his head, he tells him, “overruled. Look, Spock, you’re the first Super who’s even lasted _this_ long on Jim’s guard duty. That’s _huge_.”

Pike recalls the document he received earlier and continues talking, with a (he’ll swear to his dying day) _slight_ smirk on his face.

“Besides, I can tell you’ve already made a _big_ impression on him."


End file.
